


Try Harder

by harbularybatteries



Series: The Misadventures of Manon Hawke [2]
Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, For cas - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, In the Fade, Its kinda cute tho, NO DEATH, Spoilers, The Fade, this sucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 18:28:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7325749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harbularybatteries/pseuds/harbularybatteries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fluffy little (unbetta'd) headcanon I had about my fem!Hawke and Merrill once Hawke gets left in that once place (-:</p>
            </blockquote>





	Try Harder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Casserole/Cassette](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Casserole%2FCassette).



The Fade was just as terrible as Hawke remembered it, if not more so. Her worst fears sprang to live, tiny versions of herself and lost friends charging towards the group that consisted of Stroud, The Inquisitor's party, and herself. It was hard, having the kill friends and family members she once knew, only they weren't real. She had to remember that they weren't real.  
This was the Fade, the place of demons and nightmares. She could get through this, they all would. "There! An opening!" That was the Inquisitor's voice, the Dalish girl called out and pointed towards the opening ahead of the group. So they ran, until they saw the giant fearling make its way towards them.  
"We need to clear a path!" Stroud said, the brown haired male craned his neck to look up at the giant beast. For a moment Hawke wondered what he saw, what his biggest fear was.  
Hers, just happened to be herself. She was afraid of herself, of hurting others, of letting people in. Because she was a monster, someone who took lives, not gave them. Manon looked towards the giant version of herself once more before turning towards the Inquisitor. "Go. I'll cover you."  
"No. You were right! The Grey Wardens caused this, a Warden must-"  
Manon cut Stroud off, blue eyes locking onto the tan male's brown ones. "The Wardens must help them rebuild. That's your job!" The raven haired girl paused, turning back to her much larger self. "Corypheus is mine." She knew she would die. Knew that to protect her friends she would have to sacrifice herself. Manon closed her eyes, she thought abut the last time she saw Merrill.  
-  
"I'll be back before you know it, Pup, don't worry."  
"Yes, well... I don't know Hawke... I have a bad feeling about this, something's not right.."  
"I'll be fine, Merrill. I'm not frail and brittle yet."  
-  
How she wished her parting words weren't so stupid now. Hawke wished she had said goodbye properly, told the small Elf that she loved her and that she was sorry that she had to do this.  
Because of all the things, of all the people Manon had to leave behind: leaving Merrill was the worst.  
"Hawke..."  
"Say goodbye to Varric for me." Manon sad, unsheathing her favorite daggers from their spots on her back. Her foot falls were light and fast, her breathing stead as she neared the giant Fearling. "I'm sorry sorry, Merrill..." Hawke inhaled once more before charging towards the legs that looked so familiar. If she was ging to go out, it would be in style, not alone and old in a bed that wouldn't help her aching bones.  
-  
She couldn't believe it. Hawke couldn't belive that she had actually killed the beast. Perhaps it was simply because she knew this would be, should be, her end, thy she should've died battling that thing. Or perhaps it was all a ploy, something to give her hope that she would be rescued.  
Hawke was stuck. Stuck in the Maker damned Fade, battling what seemed like thousands of fearlings. She was stuck on the Fade where no mortal should even be able to step foot and live. Perhaps this was worse, worse than dying alone and warm in a bed. Perhaps this, being alone with nothing to do but walk in circles, to hope, and dream that maybe someone would get her out of this damned place.  
Manon wasn't hungry, or thirsty. She didn't feel tired. Perhaps she was, in fact, already dead. Maybe this was the Maker's way of punishing her for killing so many, and for skipping out on Chantry days with her mother.  
The rogue slept anyway, found a safe spot where none of the demons could get into, and she slept. She saw Merrill a lot, the Dalish girl wept whn she first saw her. Anders and Bethany did as well, the circle mage and the former Warden gasped when she showed up. They weren't real though, this was the Fade, nothing was real.  
When her hair got too long she would cut it with her daggers, and dream-Merrill said it looked good, that the choppy cut suited her. The Elf felt so real, so warm compared to the nothingness of the fade. And it made Manon happy, that dream-Merrill was so much like actual Merrill. In fact, she almost thanked whatever demon it was for acting so much like her lover.  
-  
Ribs started to poke through pale skin, and her eyes began to dull. Hair that was once shiny, and smooth became matted and dull. Manon was finally dying, and she knew it. She wasn't sure how long it would take, by she hoped it would happen when she slept, that way at least she could tell dream-Merrill goodbye, so she could die not so alone and not so afraid.  
Something pulled at her that night, and when Merrill didn't show up at Hawke's usual spot, the Rogue knew that this would be her last night. Manon had been in Death's grasp before, after the Arishok slid his sword between her middle and sliced through her lungs. And she was here again, the world, or Fade rather, blurred in an out of focus, her body felt like it was in two places at once. The one place was warm, and smelled of home and of Merrill. It smelled of herbs and the metallic smell of magic. And the other felt like nothing, it felt like everything. Manon wanted to die in the one that felt like home, she wanted to die in her girlfriend's arms, and she wanted to be able to kiss her one last time.  
And when Manon felt a final tug from the other side, she felt free.  
She had fallen through the Fade, and straight onto the floor of her and Merrill's quarters in Skyhold. "Oh, Manon..." that was Merrill's voice. Sweet, and soft, and warm. Oh how Hawke had longed to hear that voice again, how she longed to feel the Elf's small arms wrap around her frame and hold her close. "I never got to thank you," she said. Her voice dry and hoarse. "For acting so much like her..." Dull blue eyes fluttered open to find bight emerald green ones staring at her, brighter than they had been in the fade. In fact, everything was brighter, less fuzzy than it was in the Fade.  
"Manon," Merrill's voice was much more clear, much more so. "You're here, now. I promise you, Hawke. I have you," tears were sliding down the Dalish girl's cheeks as she spoke. "You've been gone for so long, Vhenan. I thought I had lost you." Nimble fingers were combing through her hair, and ghosting along her cheeks, soft lips brushing against her own caped ones.  
This wasn't the Fade, this was real; this was Merrill, her Merrill. Not some demon pretending to be her, or a hallucination or whatever she had been in the Fade. This? This was real. The rogue's lips turned up into a smirk.  
"The world is going to have to try a lot harder than that to get rid of Manon Hawke."


End file.
